


Her life.

by Little_buttercup



Series: Nereval and Nerevar [16]
Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 10:58:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12652224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_buttercup/pseuds/Little_buttercup





	Her life.

When she was born, they had left her at a doorstep of another Dunmer family. The child was a bastard, and one that could not be raised in the same circumstances as her parents. The Dunmer family had already agreed to take the child on for as long as they could. For six years they fed her, bathed her and clothed her. They kept her belly full and her face clean. But when times got tough, they had to make sacrifices. So they sent her off, gave her a few coins and never saw her again.

 

She traveled far and wide, just another lost kid in the large world. She stayed away from trouble, hitched rides with soldiers and merchants, only taking what she needed and nothing more. Sometimes she would get caught, and would have to hand the food back over. They would take pity on the child, they wouldn’t send her to the jail as they thought of her to be too young. Sometimes her luck would be good, almost too good. There would be times she’d almost been caught but something, or someone, would push her into the right direction into the shadows. Literally.

 

Her guardian, as she liked to call it, would often listen to her ramble on when they were alone. She didn’t know he was there, always listening, always watching. But she would continue anyway, telling him of exotic stories she had heard from travelers about the distant lands, of the sands and forests, of the snow and mountains. She kept him entertained, but he felt that it would ignite her imagination if he had revealed himself to her, so he waited.

 

Some called her Grace, she knew how to be polite, how to bow and curtsy. Her manners were good, she ate at a good speed when she could afford it and thanked the inn keepers for a good meal. Thus, Grace was a name she really liked. The guards would sometimes call her that, sometimes it was ‘Little Brat’ when she was caught. They would sit and listen to the stories she had to tell from talking to the merchants, mostly out of pity, but none would take her in, for she was a __dark elf.__

__

As she grew older, she traveled further and further away, until she had ended up in a place called the Imperial City. It was beautiful, the white stones and flowers, but the guards were not as nice as the other places she had been to. They had caught her many times stealing things, and her luck wasn’t as good. As she was an adult now, they did send her to the prison, mostly to keep her out of the way, out of trouble. She didn’t mind, but she missed the freedom that came with it. The food was not always so bad either.

 

The day she was meant to be released went differently, most of the time the prisoners would just be let go, back to their homelands. But for this girl, she was riding on a carriage for a long few days, then on a ship, much to her dislike. She was never really fond of ships, she liked to walk or ride on a carriage instead. But as they sailed she was certain that she would find herself in a land she had never been to before. It felt like it had taken for years, her companion who shared the same room as her told her fascinating stories of a land called __Vvardenfell.__ Maybe this is where they were going, and she felt excitement bubble inside of her.

 

Once she had disembarked, she had to think quick. They had asked her for a name, and she picked __Nereval.__ She had heard stories for a great hero called Nerevar, and she liked the twist she had given to it. Nerevar found it amusing, it would confuse the citizens of Morrowind, but perhaps it would help her with her mission, by having a name close to his own.

 

The missions she was set, she thought them to be impossible. She had no training in any sort of combat, so even learning the basics were difficult, and most of her gold was spent on that. She had never had so much money before in one pocket, it was delightful to share a hot meal with Caius. He taught her the usual hand to hand combat, until she could throw a decent punch. But she preferred the bow and arrow. Nerevar watched on, he knew that she was the one. He wanted her to lead, to fight and to unite the people of Morrowind.

 

Now, they had done it. Dagoth Ur was gone and the Tribunal will disappear. But not without a fight. Almalexia had stirred things up, and a Daedra on an island they had yet to find out about.

 

As much as Nereval wanted to stop and rest, she had no choice but to fight on. Her leg had healed nicely but she still had the scars and a slight limp, and she knew when it was going to either rain or snow. A little twinge would travel down her leg, and she would set up camp before she got soaking and cold.

 

Perhaps once she was done, she would return to traveling. Though Morrowind was her home, she wanted to see a little more of the world, and then perhaps return. Unless disaster strikes once more, then she will stay and defend the peoples. Just as she had promised to herself, and to Nerevar.

 

Their connection was deep, together. Often he would look at her with passion and adoration, her soul was soft and beautiful. She would admire him when he was not paying attention. He was a beautiful mer, and she often thought that he was too good to marry a woman like Almalexia. But she had not met her, and sometimes caught herself being too unfair to the woman she had not met, yet. She only knew Almalexia through the stories she had been told, but she wanted to make her own judgment.

 

They could not be parted, if one went too far away from the other they would feel a deep ache blossom in their chest, and they had to back track until they were once more together. It wasn’t like it had happened often, they learned their lessons after the first few times, and preferred to be together anyway.

 

In Mournhold, they had passed a merchant who was selling trained pets, Scribs and Rats. Nereval had shied away from the rats, but she decided to get a little Scrib. Nerevar wasn’t paying attention, so when she turned around with the small thing in her arms he was stunned. __Scribblet,__ she had called it, and would often forget that it was following her around and trip over it.

 

He smiled when he saw her dote over Scribblet, and he often thought she would be the perfect mother to a child.

 

It was too bad he had died centuries before she was born.  


End file.
